Don't Panic
by YouWouldntLikeMe
Summary: Silence. I tried to name something, anything, a magazine, a book, a handbook. Nothing. I couldn’t remember the last book I picked up, let alone read. “Rory, that’s why.” Jess said quietly.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, or actors, or places or any of that jazz. I wish I owned Milo… but I don't.**

_**Don't Panic**_

_A fanfiction by YouWouldntLikeMe_

He wrote me a book. I didn't know what to say. He didn't give me time to anyways. As I was flipping through the pages and trying to regain some sort of conciseness he left. "I'll call you. Or write you. Or something." I couldn't vocalize the need for him to stay. I couldn't vocalize the need for an explanation. I couldn't speak. It was definitely a new feeling. I was Gilmore, talking was a specialty. I was usually quick and intelligent. Instead I was just dumbfounded.

He muttered under his breath as he handed it to me. "I wrote this for you." It wasn't epically long. It was the size of the average novel. But it wasn't an average novel. It was Jess' novel. It was my novel. I read the first page, my breathing became sharp.

"sorry. thank you. love you."

He was clearly waiting for an outburst or a meltdown or something. Sorry. Thank you. Love you. Thank you. Sorry. Rory love you thank. The expectation of a linear thought process was clearly misguided. _Thank you. Rory. Write. Book. Sorry. Love you._

I watched as he walked out the door and started to cry.

I walked up to my room. My Burken bag was sitting on the bed stand. I started to laugh through my tears. How did it come to this? That I thought I was in love with someone whose gift to me was a Burken bag. I stared at it. It was pink. It would be perfect for carrying computer cords but that wasn't the purpose of it. It was absurd. All of this. This room wasn't mine. Nor was this bed or these clothes. There were no books in this room. There were no Lorelai or Yale remnants. There was very little that indicated _I, Rory Gilmore_, lived in that room. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't tell if the tears were from the laughing or crying.

Jess wrote me a book. I hadn't even read it yet and I knew it was the best present I ever received. I glanced at the clock, it was a little after ten. I picked up the phone and dialed as I began to take everything out of my closets. _Ring. Ring._ I pulled out my laptop and my shoes. _Ring. Ring._

"Hello?"

"Mom. Jess wrote me a book. He _wrote me a book_ and I just stood there and stared at him. I couldn't say anything? How was it that I couldn't say anything? It's like genetically impossible for me to run out of things to say. But I flipped open to first page. Wanna know what it said? Sorry. Thank you. Love you. It's on the freaking paper! So I walk up to this room that I was calling mine, but can't be because all the sudden I'm looking around and nothing remotely reminds me of myself. Which is weird, cause I live in this room. So anyways on the bed stand is this beautiful pink bag – a Burken bag that Logan gave me. This stupid expensive bag. And I just start laughing. I'm crying I'm laughing so hard, you know why? Because he told me I couldn't put computer cords in the stupid page. Is that not the most pretentious thing you've ever heard? But I listened to him and I played by the rules and then Jess gives me this book and I miss him and you and Luke and coffee and you and sweatpants and you and my room and Miss Patty and you and Kirk and mom, I want to come home."

"This is Luke and, um, your mom is right here."

Luke stood dumbfounded as he held the phone out for Lorelai.

"It's Rory. Jess wrote a book. Some Jerken bag is pink and she can't put her computer cords in it. She misses you and me and Jess, who wrote her a book. She couldn't talk then, put good lord can she now-" he tried to explain.

Lorelai grabbed the phone out of his hand. "Rory?"

I was sobbing hysterically when she finally said something. "Mom. I love you. Let me come home. Please." It was barely a whisper, strangled by my sobs and the sound of her crying.

"When do you want me to come get you?" Lorelai asked.

"Is now too soon?" I sniffed desperately.

"Now is perfect." Lorelai hung up the phone and turned around to look at Luke who was standing dumbfounded and confused. She walked up to him and let him wrap his arms around her while she sobbed into his chest.

"She's coming home Luke. She's coming home."

"Rory?" I turned around to see my grandmother standing in the door, "are you – what are you doing?" I zipped up my bag, and again I didn't know what to say. I looked at her trying to convey some sort of message with my eyes but it clearly wasn't working. Maybe it was because of how bloodshot and red they were. Maybe it was because she didn't know me. Maybe it was because I didn't know me.

"Rory! Honestly, what are you doing?"

"I'm going home Grandma."

"What do you mean your going home – you are home." Her ignorance didn't surprise me. She didn't want to see I was broken and battered. She refused to see I was lonely and stupid. She didn't want to see Mom was right.

"No. Mom, Stars Hollow, Books," I picked up Jess' book off the bed. Maybe one day I would be able to include him in this list. Maybe. But this was not the time to think about that. "They are home."

"Rory don't do this to us. We took you in. We fed you, we, I gave you a job!" I felt my heart sink. She tried to help, she really did and I couldn't leave without saying thank you. I wouldn't. But I'd lost myself here. I'd lost everything that mattered. It wasn't her fault, but she didn't exactly help the matter.

"You're running away – just like your mother. Are you pregnant? I can't believe it. You're pregnant! This was not how it was supposed to be Rory. You weren't supposed to turn out like your mother." She was hysterical now.

"I'm not pregnant. I'm not running away. I'm going home." I was talking in sentences. That was an improvement. "Staying here, with you – working with DAR, quitting Yale, Logan, that was running away." I was trying to be delicate. I love my Grandmother but she was going to take this all the wrong way. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For everything, but I need to go home."

My head was killing me; I didn't want to talk about how everything had changed. I didn't want to figure it out, analyze it, explain it. Not right now. I wanted to go home, I wanted to sleep in my bed. If it was still there. Then it struck me – what if my bed wasn't there? What if my room had been changed into a pantry or a closet or a bathroom or an extension of the kitchen or something? What if I didn't have a home anymore? What if I was homeless and I _thought _I was going home only to find out that there was no home.

"Rory. You are not going back to Stars Hollow. Not tonight." She was determined. "Besides how would you get there, I'm certainly not driving you." She seemingly forgot I had a car of my own, but I wasn't going to remind her.

"Lorelai is coming to get me." I said quietly. "I called and she's coming to get me."

She stood, astounded, "You called Lorelai? What on earth would prompt you to do that?"

I didn't know it was possible but my voice got even quieter, "Jess."

"Jess? That boy you brought over years ago? That hoodlum. What on earth are you talking about? Your clearly ill."

"He wrote me a book. A real book. I haven't read it yet but here it is." I was still holding on to it, I waved it around a little. "He wrote me a book, _me._"

Grandma was clearly more confused now then she was before. "He wrote you a book? Why would he do that?"

"Sorry. Thank you. Love you." I stated simply.

"Excuse me?"

"That's why, Sorry. Thank you. Love you." I opened up to the first page and pointed at it, "see right there."

She was at a loss, "but, but what about Logan?"

I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Rory, did you hear me? What about Logan?"

I didn't want to think about Logan. Not now. Not after what he did tonight. Not after what was said. I opened my eyes and looked at my Grandmother, she was grabbling to comprehend something that I couldn't explain. I came to the conclusion that "What about him?" was the best response.

"You. Him. This Jess boy. Tonight. The pool house. You seem to know Logan pretty intimately." She paused briefly to show her distain. "You can't just leave."

Intimately. I knew she was referring to the fact that I was sleeping with him, but how well did I even know Logan? How well did I know Jess? How well did I know myself? I would have up until tonight said incredibly well to all of those. How typical of Jess to send my sense of reality of spinning. I was seething.

"I have his number." I said as I shoved some clothes into a bag. "I'll call him when I'm in Stars Hollow."

"And say what?" She had lost all control of this situation and wasn't the least bit happy. It was annoying really. I didn't want to be discussing it right then. Not when I couldn't think. Jess. This was all his fault. Marching into my life and telling me who I was. He had no right. Not after he left. Not after what he's done.

And yet there I was, backing all my things in a bag getting ready to go home. I hadn't even read his stupid book. I was changing my life for 5 words. 22 letters. I was counting the letters. Good God, I was counting the letters.

"Rory!"

"I don't know! I don't know, ok? I have no idea. None. Zero. Zip." I was yelling, "That's why I'm going home."

"You're exactly like your mother! Running away from your problems!" I couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since someone had compared me to Lorelai. I started to cry again at the thought of her.

The door bell rang.

Lorelai was always one to understand the effectiveness of timing. But I just stood there, tears steaming down my cheeks, clutching Jess' book. Grandma walked out of the room and downstairs to the entryway.

"Hi mom." Lorelai whispered, "Where's Rory?"

"In the room that apparently wasn't good enough for her."

"Mom, don't be like that-"

"Like what Lorelai? This girl is exactly like you. We give her everything, the world and what does she want to do? Go back to that _charming_ little town. Why? Because a boy showed up and gave her a _book. _Logan gave the girl a _burken bag_, for goodness sake, _a burken bag._"

"Rory likes books." Was all Lorelai could think to say.

She didn't have time to say anything. I just clung to her like a scared little kid. She kissed my head and promised me it was all going to be ok. Words tumbled out of my mouth, fast. Sorry. Thank you. Love you. She told me show knows. By the time we break the embrace her shirt is wet in the front.

"Mom, I-" I'm sorry. I miss you. I love you. I want to come home. I want to go back to school. I want to cry.

"Shh, honey I know."

I grabbed my bag and stuttered a teary thank you to my Grandmother. She was crying now too. She gave me a hug and let me go. I put my bag in the back of the jeep and climbed in. Mom started the car and we didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"We're gonna have to talk about this kid."

"I know."

"But not tonight."

"I know."

"Luke lives with me."

I looked at her and smiled, she was trying to be cute, to break the mood.

"He lives with you and your dog?"

"Yup."

"So tell me about this dog? Does it live in," I hesitated, the mood shifted again. "my room?"

"Your room is exactly how you left it." She says quietly.

"Thank you. For everything."

Mom ran her hand through my hair, "Your welcome kid."

"So seriously – back to this dog, is it still alive?" we could deal with everything else later. Right now I just wanted us to be Rory and Lorelai.

"Yes." She said indignantly. "It's alive and it's happy, I'll have you know."

"Really? What's it's name? _Paul Anka_?" I turned and looked at her, "You named your dog Paul Anka?"

"Yes."

We laughed. She told me more about this dog. When I told her I thought it was the most dysfunctional animal on the planet she became very defensive. "Paul Anka just has special needs." She cried exasperatedly as we pulled into the drive way.

We got out of the jeep and stood there in the dark. Alone and quiet for a minute, "Welcome home Rory." She whispers finally as she put her arm around my waist. I sighted, "I missed this."

"So did I. Luke is great and all but being quibby isn't quite as fun when it's one-sided."

"Luke isn't quibby? Poor baby. Maybe you should have gotten to know him better before you got engaged."

"I know, I know, that's what people keep trying to tell me. But he has a great ass."

"Oh. Good God. My ears. My eyes." My eyes widened, horrified. "I'm not going to have to see Luke in his underwear right?"

"Luke doesn't wear underwear."

"Dirty."

"Yes very, now let's go inside. You can go to bed and we'll talk in to morning."

I crawled into bed. My bed. In my room. I was still holding Jess' book. I felt childish in believing that as soon as I let it go it would disappear and I would wake up back at the Gilmore Mansion. But everything that had happened had been too surreal, so I continued to clutch the black book.

_**flashback**_

"_Rory." I knew that voice. "Rory?" _

"_Jess?" He was particularly good at picking inopportune moments to show up. I was supposed to meet Logan in an hour. I wrapped my arms around my torso, this certainly wasn't expected. But I would be lying if I said I was surprised. "What do you want?" _

"_To say hi." He stated simply, leaning against the doorframe of my room. _

"_And I suppose my grandmother just let you in, did she?" This was not how expected this conversation to start. I expected him to launch into some tirade about how he wanted me back. How he loved me. How I was denying some mutual feeling that faded a long time ago. A feeling he killed when he runaway. _

"_As a matter of fact, no." he grinned. It was clear Grandma didn't know he was here. It was clear that he did something stealthy to get in. It was also clear he didn't just want to say hi. _

"_I'm not even going to ask Jess." I said I looked at him in the full length mirror; I was straightening out my skirt when I noticed how different we both looked. We both had grown up. _

"_I went to New Haven. I went to your dorm. Imagine my surprise when I found out you didn't live there anymore." I knew what he was getting at. _

"_Not now." _

"_Why not, now seems like the perfect time?" _

"_Why do you care?" _

"_Nice room."_

"_That's not an answer." _

"_It looks like it came directly out of an interior decorating magazine. Very classy Rory."_

"_Seriously, Jess." _

"_And these pillows? What's the thread count?" _

"_Jess. Stop." _

"_I was merely being polite." _

"_You were being evasive." _

"_Where are your books?" _

"_What? Jess, answer my question." _

"_Where are your books?" _

"_Jess, this is silly. If you don't want to say, don't, I'm not in the mood to play games." _

"_This isn't a game, where are you're books?" _

"_Not here." _

"_Read anything good lately?" _

"_Nothing special." _

"_What was the last thing you read?" _

_Silence. I tried to name something, anything, a magazine, a book, a handbook. Nothing. I couldn't remember the last book I picked up, let alone read. _

"_Rory, that's why." He said quietly. _

"_Jess," I paused. This was not at all what I had expected. "Do you wanna come to dinner?" _

I stumbled out of bed, and into the kitchen. My head was aching, and waking up in my own room disoriented me further. It hadn't been until I reached the kitchen table did I realize my mom was asleep in the chair in my room.

I quickly slipped on a pair of slippers and grabbed a coat. I scribbled a note to my mom and I headed to Luke's. It had been months since I had a Luke Coffee. I tried to pretend that the stuff my Grandmother got her maids to make was competent. It wasn't. It was disgusting and watery. She made me drink decaf. It was repulsive.

"Rory?" Came a voice from behind the counter, Luke rushed out to say hello.

"Morning Luke." I yawned and pulled my coat tighter around my waist. "Two large coffees to-go, a jelly doughnut, and a time machine, preferable a Dolerian. Please."

"Back to the Future?"

"Bad dream – just go with it. Coffee. Now."

"Right. OK, where's your mom?" he asked as he poured the coffees.

"Home. Asleep." He handed me my coffee. "Thank you."

"It's on the house, go talk to Lorelai."

As I was walking out the door I heard Luke say, "Welcome home, Rory."

I smiled.

"Rory? Is that you?" I heard a voice from the kitchen.

"I come baring coffee from Luke's."

"Good daughter," she patted my head as I sat next to her at the table, she frowned. She whispered, "That's Paul Anka's chair."

"Right." I switched chairs.

"Paul Anka is scared of things with googley eyes." She said looking at my slippers. I took them off and walked them into my room and shut the door.

"This is why I never let you get a dog. You were bound to get the animal version of you. Quirky and dysfunctional, yet completely lovable."

"I thought the reason was the hamster."

"That too. They are both valid reasons." I sat down and crossed my legs. Mom opened her mouth as if to object. I switched the way I was crossing my legs. She smiled. "You learn quick young grasshopper."

"So." I said quietly.

"We need to talk Rory."

"Dean. The color of your living room. Logan. Journlism. The DAR. Yale. Bewitched. Mr. Huntzberger. Jess. Madonna's new song. Grandma. Take your pick."

"Bewitched was _wrong._" She seethes.

"I _know_, Logan didn't understand, he didn't get that Nicole Kidman wasn't the problem. It was the _script_."

"It was who they left out."

"I know!"

"Rory."

"Focus.

"Right."

"I missed you."

"We'll get to that soon enough. Let's start with - why'd you leave?"

"You or grandma or Yale?" I asked quietly.

"Let's start with Yale."

**Woot! There we go the beginning of "Don't Panic" my first GG fic. There is a plan for this one – I'm not winging it! Ambitious aren't I? Well basically this is a Lit Drama/Comedy I'm trying to keep with in the spirit of the show and keep the characters in character. Please I would love to know what y'all think. **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, or actors, or places or any of that jazz. I wish I owned Milo… but I don't.**

**_Don't Panic - Chapter 2_**

"Honey, I really think you should see a shrink." My mom said finally when our talk was over. I was sobbing into her shirt again.

"What? Why?" I demanded.

"These past two years have been a disaster for you emotionally. Jess leaving, you going off to college, Jess coming back, you sleeping with Dean, _who was married, _the whole Dean dating you because he felt obligated when his wife caught your cheating asses, meeting Logan, changing for Logan, that stupid Rich Kids In Yale Who Do Stupid Things Club-"

"The Life and Death Brigade." I corrected.

"Brigade? That just _sounds _conceited. Anyways being that casual dating girl, how my mother treated Luke, how that affected your relationship with her, my mother and father's split, Chris coming back – Chris your whole life, the huntzbegers, stealing the boat, not talking to me, becoming my mother's Lorelai Doll… Am I forgetting anything?"

"Jess wrote me a book."

"Yeah, and that. Rory, honey, we've got some stuff we need to work through. A lot of stuff."

"I made some mistakes." I whispered, "Everybody makes mistakes."

"Yeah honey, I got pregnant. Which turned out for the better, clearly. But Rory, kid, a couple mistakes are expected. Rebellion is expected. But sleeping with boys you weren't in love with, changing for boys, _joining the DAR, quitting Yale._ That was never you. I don't know why it happened or how to fix all of it, but I know we need to look at it."

"Logan said that I was just an experiment."

"What?"

"Why do boys _do that? _They make you feel special, they make you care and then they leave. Or don't call. Or pretend it never happened. Or Lie. Or _tell you it wasn't really anything._"

"Rory honey what are you talking about?"

"Last night. Logan called; he left a message on my machine." I said quietly. "He was drunk. He told me that it was fine if I went off with Jess and got married and moved to Philly because I didn't mean anything. I was just a test. An experiment to see if he could play the steady boyfriend."

"Philly? Why Philly? I thought Jess lived in New York?"

"So not the point!" I cried. "The point is I'm stupid. I'm a stupid girl who does stupid things all because of _stupid boys_. Oprah would be horrified by me. Sleeping with Dean, believing he loved me. Pining over Jess, secretly hoping he would come back. Not talking it out when he did. Changing for Logan, thinking he actually cared. Believing Dad all those years."

"Oh, Rory." Mom cringed, "I'm a little late on this. I get that."

"And Chilton didn't matter. Those grades don't matter! Want to know why? Because my promptness and my punctuality and factuality and all those alities that they instill in you there aren't things you actually need. You need to be reckless and dangerous and daring to be a journalist. You need to get arrested and experience life." I was hysterical. "You need to be rich or a Cinderella story of a drug addict with AIDs who gets a scholarship to Harvard and finds the cure to cancer all while saving the dolphins because _they _have enough depth to write. They aren't a stupid small town girl who falls apart over stupid boys."

"Rory. Stop. Now. Listen to yourself. Please. Please. Please. We'll figure this out. You're a smart girl who under all the smiles and innocence had a pretty tough life. You're story is vastly less cliché then a drug addict whore with AIDs becoming a superhero or whatever it was. You're a pretty girl who's mom who was barely an adult herself while raising her, your Dad has been in and out of your life which probably accounts for a lot of your boy problems. You went to Yale and stole a boat – that's kind of Rebel Without A Cause, right?"

"I don't want to be that person."

"Maybe you don't have to be. You could be Courtney Love if you wanted to, just add a heroin addiction to all of this and a kid and the suicide of one of your ex's and dye your hair blonde. Or you could be Lindsay Lohan – that's an easier one. Dye your hair red, loose 20 pounds and get a boob job. Or you could go an entirely different route and become an Elvis impersonator – you're just a sex change away from a career as a minister in Vegas!"

"Who is Rory?" I ask her seriously, interrupting her rant.

"You know I can't answer that kid. That's up to you." We were quiet for a while; I finished my coffee and climbed into my bed. Mom stood in the door way and smiled softly, "We'll figure this out. I promise. Maybe we'll hire the guy who was working with Paris."

"I think he killed himself."

"Oh, that's not something to joke about." She pouted and looked at me in mock-severity.

"I'm not." I wasn't kidding I was pretty sure he either killed himself or went into witness protection.

"Oh well – I – I have to collect my 10 bucks from Sookie."

My mom had gone to Luke's to "buy coffee" which I knew was code for make-out. I was happy for her, the engagement and all. It was a long time coming this, true-adult-forever-best-friends-realize-they-are-actually-soul-mates type of love.

When I was younger the engagement would have broken my heart, shattering the notion of my Dad coming back to be a family with us. But I know now all Dad ever wanted to do was play house. It hurt every time he didn't show up. Or promised me something.

But after awhile I realized that I didn't notice that he wasn't at important events in my life; I only noticed when he was there. That wasn't a good realization. I did not like waking myself up to the idea that my Dad wasn't really part of my life beyond a name and an idea and an address I sent gifts and cards to every holiday.

I looked over on my dresser; there were a bunch of photographs of Mom and I throughout various stages in our lives but only one of me and my Dad. It was at Sookie's wedding. It was right before I kissed Jess. I was smiling, comfortably and I looked fairly happy but it looked fake and posed next to the picture of me covered in Cheez-Wiz laughing while my mom stood next to me with the bottle grinning madly.

I explored my room for a little bit; looking for something that exemplified my absence from it for so many months. The only thing that signified that any of what had happened actually _did _happen was Jess' book which was lying on my bed.

'The SubSect' it was called. If I was honest with myself the reason why I hadn't read it yet was I was scared to see what was in it. The lie of course was I hadn't had time. I thumbed through the pages. Now was a good a time as any to start it. I cuddled up in my blankets and began to read.

I burst into the diner; Mom was sitting at the counter flirting with Luke. Completely oblivious to my entrance, "MOM!"

"Rory? What's wrong-"

"THIS BOOK IS ABOUT ME."

"What?" I stopped waving it around enough for her to see what I was holding. "Oh. That. Well, _of course it is._"

"What do you mean 'Of course it is'? That's bull if you ask me. I'm not psychic, and if I was I'd be like that show with Raven girl who always messes up things by misinterpreting them on the Disney Channel-"

"You watch the Disney Channel?"

"Mom – I lived at Grandma's, I wasn't exactly busy."

"Right, continue rant." She gestured for me to continue.

"It's about me, and here and him and there and changes and-"

"Again, Duh!" She rolled her eyes at me.

"Mom you don't get it – the girl in this book, she's Rory." I declared frustared, she wasn't getting it.

"Rory – _we just covered that._"

"No, I mean like when I asked who Rory is – Rory is right here, in these pages." Mom frowned.

"Rory, that's just Jess' interpretation of you – it's not who you are. You're not exactly emotionally stable right now. I really don't think you want to be all _Runaway Bride _and have a guy know you before you know yourself. Especially one like Jess who has done nothing but hurt you from the get go."

"I hurt him too. Add that to the list of things I've done wrong in my life." I fumed.

"Oh! Oh! I had another one too – remember the time you thought that it would be a good idea to combine Chinese Food and Cold Pizza? Yeah that's right up there with dropping out of Yale."

I had done a full two days of moping and crying about how pathetic I had let myself become before I finally pulled it together. I was sitting on the porch while my mom painted my toenails when I announced I intended on getting a job and going back to school.

Mom smiled, "Rory only if that's what you really want. If you want to become a drug-dealer or a stripper, I'm open to the idea. Just make sure to tell the Grandparents first."

"There was plan, I crashed and burned and then got in an ambulance which crashed and I got out and got in another car and drove around in circles for a little bit and then _that _car crashed… Like a Michel Bay film, big explosive redundant car crashes. But see, I'm never going to see another Michel Bay film ever again, not after The Island."

"There was a reference in there and I'm sure it made sense and was brilliant but after Pearl Harbor I erased Michel Bay from my mind. So, since I don't have any clue who Michel Bay is, I can't relate." She continued painting my toes.

"I'm going to apply for a job at the Stamford Eagle." I declared.

"Hon, there's facing your fears and then there is baiting another mental breakdown. If your not careful you might end up like Buffy in that episode where they try and make you think it's all a crazy girl's dream – but you _know _its not."

"I will not end up like Psyche-Ward-Buffy."

"If you say so," she caps the nail polish, "All done! Look your nails are all red and slutty."

"Why can't we have normal traditions? Like baking cookies or something?" I asked of no one in particular.

"Rory. I flunked out of Home Economics. I was kicked out of that cooking class I took. And need I remind you of Santa Cookie Terrors 1991 through 1995."

I shuddered. I was never able to look at sugar cookies the same way. "Right. Good point. Slutty nail polish is way better than baking cookies."

**So there you go chapter 2; hope you enjoy. It's a little shorter then chapter one – but that was an epically long chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

_**Don't Panic – Chapter 3**_

"Good luck doesn't seem like the right thing to say. 'Good-Bye sweet, sweet Rory it was good knowing you' seems more along the lines of what I should be saying."

"Mom, I'm going in, I'm applying for a job, I'm coming back out – you will be sitting in this car listening to that copy of Madonna's new album you thought I didn't see and panicking, I will come out and you will beg me for details make a quippy remark and we will go home." I said as I opened the door to get out of the car. "I'll be fine."

"Good-bye sweet, swee-" I closed the door on her and scowled.

I checked my watch and fiddled with the button on my jacket as I entered the elevator, my paperwork under my arm. "Hey, Hey! Can you hold that for me." I looked up, I knew that voice. "Seriously, I'm in a hurry."

I put my foot out to keep the door open. "Hi Logan."

"Rory-" he started. 

"Just get in the elevator."

"This could potentially get awkward." He warned.

"It already is."

"It could get worse."

"Logan. Get in the damn elevator." He stepped in, and the tension became palpable.

"So." He tried.

"Don't even try."

I crossed my arms, forgetting my paperwork. Had this been a romantic comedy and I was Kate Hudson and he was one of the Wilson brothers we would have apologized and had sex in that elevator. I would have instantly gotten the job, his Dad would accept me, we would laugh about all our stupidities but incidentally it wasn't a movie. So when he tried to pick up my papers I snapped.

"What do you think you're doing? Touching my stuff? Hands off! Hands off! Ok? Seriously. Calling me at 3:32 am that night – _3:32 am _what the hell Logan? It's like 'Oh hey we've only been sleeping together like every night and hanging out all the time and you said you loved me but like – ha-ha you were just a test and I passed! Finn order me another beer. Bye Ace.' Oh and yes _I know _that wasn't the exact phrasing but I don't want you to wallow in the glory of knowing I _listened _to it enough times to know _exactly _everything that was said. This is my floor. Good Bye."

He grabbed my wrist as I tried to leave, "Rory – please, let's talk."

I glared at him. I tried to free my wrist. "Don't make me pull a LC."

"LC?" He asked inquisitively.

"Laguna Beach, come on! No, please I have to apply for a job. If you want to talk, you have my number." He let go of my wrist and let me step out of the elevator. As the doors were shutting I said "Just don't use it at 3:32 when you're drunk and feel like confessing your sins."

With that I took a deep breath and walked up to the door of the editor's office. I was not going to fall apart over that little meeting. I couldn't do that to myself. I knocked lightly, I knew him from my brief stint as an intern, I was pretty sure he liked me. I also was fairly certain he didn't like Mitchum.

"Ms. Gilmore!" he exclaimed, "What a pleasant surprise. I haven't seen you in months, what brings you here."

"I'm actually here to apply for a job, Mr. Smith." I smiled somewhat weakly. But lucky for me his reaction was far warmer.

"Really, come, sit. Let's talk." He ushered me into the room.

I sat in the chair he had indicated to, crossed my legs and tried my best to look official. I wanted this job. I needed this job. "So Ms. Gilmore, as I recall you worked here as an intern briefly then proceeded to get arrested with Mitchum's son and then as far as I know, you dropped of the face of the planet for a few months."

"That's basically the jist of it." I smiled, a little less pathetically this time.

"So Rory, tell me – why should I give you this job?" he asked bluntly as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.

"Well ok, cut right to the chase." I mumbled as I pulled out my fairly pathetic resume. I had never really had a real job. "Basically, I see that I'm not the best looking candidate on paper. I know that. But that's not what journalism is about – it's not about what's on the paper, it's about how much you want it. How much you're willing to give a story. And, I sir, am willing to give my all. I'm willing to write filler, about parking lot repavements, I sir am willing to just be an assistant if it means getting to work in this building, in this environment."

"Well Ms. Gilmore, your honesty is commendable, but I don't know if we'll be able to hire you."

"Why not?" I demanded. We lost all the conventions of a regular job interview when I told him my paperwork sucked, if I was going down, I was going to do it all the way.

"Like you said, you're experience isn't up to par. Also you failed to mention why you stopped your internship early and it's not entirely up to me who we hire."

"Sir, no paperwork in the world is going to show you how truly dedicated I am to this, and about the internship – let's just say that my dedication comes from being put on a horse by Mr. Huntzberger, getting knocked off and trampled on by Mr. Huntzberger and then being treated like crap by Mr. Huntzberger." I was on fire. "And I'll have you know that _he _is not that great a journalist himself. He's just a rich, aristocratic, arrogant-"

"You're not the first person to be beaten up by Mr. Huntzberger, nor will you be the last, thank you so much for your time Rory. We'll call you within the week." He walked over to the door and opened it for me.

"Thank you for your time." I said and walked out to the elevator. As I headed out to the parking lot I saw Logan try and approach out of the corner of my eye. I turned and mouthed the words "Don't you dare." To him and made it out to the car in peace.

"So how'd it go?" my mom asked as I shut the door behind me.

"Well… at least I'll have some closure."

"You have, one, new message." I clicked my cell phone shut and walked out on the porch. My mom was inside making out with Luke, she would be busy for another hour or so.

I flipped my phone open and dialed voicemail, "Hey, sorry I missed your call. Um, yeah I guess we need to talk. Call me." I scowled slightly. Phone tag. This was not a fun game. I dialed his number and let it ring. 

"Hey?" he answered.

"Hello."

"Rory?"

"The one and only." I said weakly.

"Hi."

"Hi." I repeated back

"Hi." It was getting awkward.

"You called." I stated simply.

"And then you called." He responded.

"That I did."

"Well… then this is certainly…" he trailed off.

"The other night shouldn't have gone the way it did. He was a jerk to you – I'm really, truly sorry."

"You weren't the jerk."

"I facilitated the jerk." I winced. That didn't come out right.

"That sounded dirty."

"Maybe it was." Nice save Gilmore I thought bitterly.

"This banter sucks." He declared.

"Agreed."

"Let's forget about the other night OK?" He tried.

"So I was reading an old issue of Spin today-" I started quickly, talking fast.

"You read Spin? What are you talking about?"

"This is called a 'conversation construct' – read Sloppy Firsts. And yeah, I read Spin, thank you. So in this issue there was an interview with the South Park guys and they were talking about voting and how they thought last election was like choosing between a turd sandwich and something equally disgusting and so they said 'Screw it we're not voting.' I thought about and said 'What an interesting stance to take. Does it help or hurt us in the long rung?'"

He started laughing, "Turd? That's something I never expected to hear you say. And since when do you watch South Park?"

"I lived with the Grandparents over the summer – I wasn't exactly busy."

"But it only airs late at night…" he was joking.

"Are you implying something?" I was playing along.

"That maybe you were a little busy to be watching Late Night cartoons." He laughed. I smiled.

"Jess, the book was amazing." I whispered.

"Thanks."

It was silent for awhile.

"I think it doesn't matter whether or not the guys from South Park voted or not." He said finally.


	4. Chapter 4

**Firstly I want to thank everyone for their reviews – it really makes this worthwhile. Especially because this is my first actual fic – I've written a couple oneshots but this is definitely a completely different process. So keep up to comments – anything but flames is welcome. **

**Don't Panic – Chapter 4**

His hands toyed with the bottom of my shirt. Clearly, it was in the way of something he wanted. He mumbled "Rory" over and over again. Planting hurried kisses all over my face. I missed you, comes out. I giggled. You saw me on Monday. I tell him as I start to push him off me. He doesn't seem to want to move. He said that was much too long and has continued his attack on my neck.

"Logan, I need to answer the phone."

He sighed as he stood up. "Fine, I should get going anyways." He planted a brief kiss on my lips as he headed out the door. It had been a month since I moved out of Emily and Richard's. It had been three weeks since I was informed I would not be hired at the Stamford Eagle. It had been 3 weeks and 2 days since I had moved all fifteen copies of Jess' book into the 'Staff Recommendations' section. It had been that day that we officiated a "Jess-must-call-Rory-once-a-week" rule; at the time the reasoning behind it was business. I would tell him how the book was selling.

But it wasn't business when he called the third time in that first week. He missed me and I missed having friends. People who I could actually talk to. People who I didn't see drunk every weekend stumbling out of pubs.

Lane was fabulous but was no longer around. After a very dramatic break up with Zach that involved him ruining every shot their band had at ever making is big she decided to travel. She used with the money she would typically be spending on rent and bills. Lane moved out of the house and went on a road trip out to California.

Paris was, well, Paris.

And Lorelai was completely obsessed with her wedding; which I had taken over the planning of. Because as mom put it, "You hosted DAR functions, betraying the way of the Lorelai's and as your punishment you are sentenced to handling every detail of my wedding that I am a – too busy to do. B – Is no fun. Or c – I'm too lazy too." All of our conversations were about flowers or money or colors or coffee now.

"Hello?" I finally managed to say.

"Took you long enough." I smiled.

"Sorry, spaced out for a minute."

"Actually three."

"You clocked it?"

"Yes, three minutes twenty two point eight seconds exactly. So my dear," he teased. My stomach fluttered. I tried to ignore it. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh the intrigue." I smirked.

"How do you feel about coming to visit me in Philly before you start Yale again? Stay a few days, maybe a week. We'll do some very uncool touristy things. Maybe go out to eat somewhere fun. Party. Get wasted. Cause a scene like the Real World kids. Possibly get arrested."

I cringed slightly. He didn't know about my run in with the law yet. "That sounds fabulous; except for the part where we get arrested."

"I was kidding." He said.

"I know." I said trying to cover my reaction. Jess knew only small bits and pieces as to what had happened with me and I wasn't ready for a heart to heart. I needed time.

"So what do you say, _Ace_?"

"Don't call me that."

"He does."

"Yeah, well, don't."

It was awkward and silent for a while. These uncomfortable moments happened regularly. We both knew they alluded to things we weren't saying. Things we couldn't say. But neither of us were strong enough to do anything more than change the subject.

"How about I come down next weekend?" I asked quickly. By then all my community service would be over.

"Next weekend it is."

It was silent again.

"Jess I got to ask-"

"I live in an actual apartment. With an actual couch and an actual bed. I have an actual job."

"Do you have an actual roommate?" I was going to add some sort of snide remark to that, make it a question he didn't have to answer. But suddenly I found myself really wanting to know.

"Nope. Just me." He stated simply.

"So it'll be just us?" I asked, more hesitantly then I had intended.

"Don't sound so disappointed." He mocked me but I couldn't tell if he had heard the nervousness in my voice. I couldn't tell if was nervous too.

"Ok, so… I'll see you soon." I ended awkwardly.

"I'll call you." He hung up, and for the first time in our friendship I knew he would.

Later that week I was sitting at Luke's with mom discussing how browns were not the right colors for a spring wedding even if it was the marriage of a coffee addict and a diner man when I blurted it out; "I'm going to Philly next weekend. Probably for a couple days. I don't know how long. To see Jess."

Mom didn't talk for awhile. I stunned her to silence. She wasn't distraught, just confused. "Next weekend you're done your community service." She sipped her coffee.

"Yes."

"You could have gone up with week." She was waving to Luke for more coffee.

"Lorelai – you aren't done that coffee, I will give you some more when you've finished."

"Didn't you hear Rory's story about how waiting to finish one drink before you've order another is amateurish? I should have gone pro years ago." It was more of a snap then a quip. Luke muttered some dark things about Logan I pretended not to hear.

"I could have." She was going to start insinuating things.

"Was it more convenient for Jess to have you visit next weekend?"

"No… It just made more since to go next weekend."

"When your debt to society is paid off."

"Yes."

"You didn't want to be forced to come back."

"I'm not going to stay forever if that's what you're trying to get at."

"This is just _temporary, _right?"

It was cold. It was mean. I completely deserved it but it didn't make it hurt any less. I tried to stick it out. I wanted to prove to her I could take it. That I had grown up. That I had a backbone now.

"It's only a visit." I tried to keep my tone unaffected. I was failing miserably. I watched as my mom softened at my tone.

"Well I hope you have a good time." She was trying to repair the damage.

"Yeah me too, but with Jess… you never know."

"Be safe." She was serious again. She raised her eyebrow slightly making it clear that she _had _intended the double meaning.

"_Moooom_, it's not like that. I have a boyfriend."

"That type of thing hasn't stopped you in the – and him in the past."

She was alluding to Dean on two levels. Sleeping with married Dean and cheating on boyfriend Dean. I hated thinking that name; it made me sick to my stomach. I hated everything that went along with it.

"So… does Logan know?" she asked cocking her head to the side.

"Know what?"

"That you're still in love with your ex-boyfriend?"

"I'm in love with Logan." I stated factually.

"You loved Dean too."

**Jess and Rory in my hometown… Philly represent! This will be fun… **


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't Panic -Chapter 5 **

"Why are you going to Philly?" Logan asked between kisses. I squirmed slightly. After Jess came to visit things shifted between us. I tried to tell myself our fight was just that, a fight. But it wasn't. It was a revelation. Logan and I hardly knew anything about each other. And I didn't want to get to know him. I didn't care what books he read or how he felt about the South Park guys' views on voting. I didn't care; long as he continued to allow me to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.

Every time I was with him I was someone else. I loved it at first. It was a complete escape from Stars Hollow and the mistakes I'd made. I was Rory Gilmore, Emily and Richard's socialite granddaughter or R-Something, Logan's girlfriend, _(Can you believe it… she's his girlfriend.)_ Not Rory Gilmore Stars Hollow's former princess. Not part of Lorelai&Lorelai Co. I was someone completely different. That's what happens when you grow up; you change. At least that's what I told myself as he started to take my shirt off.

"To visit a friend." I said not wanting to go through with what he was starting. He pulled back, and looked at me quizzically.

"Who do you know in Philly?" This frustrated me a little.

"I knew people before I met you OK?" I snapped and adjusted my shirt a little. Making it clear that nothing was going to be happening tonight.

"No need to get snappy, I was just curious." His voice softened and his hand inched his way back to my waist. I wasn't budging. Something inside me started to gnaw at my stomach and made my mouth go dry. I liked my lips slightly before I spoke.

"I'm going to spend the week with Jess. Seeing as our last attempt at catching up was ruined." There was no emotion in any of my words. It scared me how calm I sounded. It scared me how badly he took it.

"The week? A _week_? Why not a day trip or weekend? I could take you to Philly tonight if you wanted." He stammered. "Just say the word and we'll go."

"I don't want that. I'm only going to Philly to see Jess."

"You know Rory I read that book – the one he wrote. I saw those extra copies lying in your room that night we went to see Harry Potter, I took one. He doesn't love you anymore. That was him purging himself of you. _Virginal Princess of Literacy_? Come on now, not only is that completly lame and off the mark with you. It sounds pretty spiteful to me.

_She loved me; I loved that she loved me._

He didn't love you. He was playing you. You're going to go spend a week with a guy who feels that way about you? Are you crazy? We could go tonight and I garuntee it would be more fun."

It was all wrong. All wrong. Logan didn't even know Jess. He didn't know what the apology meant. He didn't know Jess was calling me a more than three times every week. He didn't know him. He didn't know that Jess loved me.

"God Logan - I'm not going because it will be 'fun.' It's a lot more complicated then that." I stood up and tugged my shirt down again. I suddenly felt very dirty. "And he _did_ love me."

But to be honest, I didn't know either until I read the book. I wasn't sure that Jess loved me until I read how much he hated me. How much he hated that he wanted me to be the one to save him. How desperately he wanted me to fix him. How discovered that too late. He only spent about five pages on me total. A snide remark here, there, in between talk about Stars Hollow the only innocent place left in the United States. He wrote about it with sarcastic disdain. He was gifted; you could tell that through all his often humorously cynical describtions of Stars Hollow - he really did have a soft spot for the place.

"Rory he didn't write about you like that. He didn't love you. He was laughing at you. He wanted to hurt you." He grabbed for my hand, I pulled it away.

Jess wrote about me with resentment. I hurt him. I got far enough past the Jess shield of sarcasm to render him vulnerable. I managed to get far enough into his heart, mind and soul that when I said "no", I hurt him. I was so sure I was the only one hurting. That he left me and was able to move on. That he was happy and I was scared. That while I pretended to be OK and to have forgotten he had already done so.

I'd be lying if I said that didn't satisfy the beast in the pit of my stomach. Knowing I hurt him. Vengeance was sweet. I never discussed the parts of the book about me on the phone. I skimmed over it. I listened as he would inhale sharply and wrack his brain for explanations and sarcastic retorts. I would smile sadly knowing that eventually I was going to have to stop toying with him. Eventually we were going to have to stop playing games and figure things out.

"Rory; he hated you. You were a game." He repeated.

"Dammit Logan! you've never even met him, you have no idea what you're talking about!" I was tired of this. This constant walking on eggshells with Logan. When we weren't fighting we were having sex. 

There wasn't anything worth holding on to anymore. Was this how things would have turned out with Jess and me? Would our passion turn into hate? Or did we just start with hate? Were we progressing to love? God, what the hell were Jess and I?

"I met him." He tried.

"Oh it was a crap meeting and you know it." I swung my arm in attempts to hit him. Smack him. Something.

"What else is there to know Rory? You were high school-"

"Don't say it Logan. Jess and I were hardly what you would constitute 'sweethearts.'"

"Fuck buddies?"

"Oh. My. God. Logan. That. I don't even have words." I tried to quell that feeling that came up when thoughts of Jess and sex combined. This was a completly inappropriate time for the mental undressing of him I was doing in my head. The practice of imagining Jess naked and the things I could do to Naked Jess had become more frequent with his phone calls. I, of course wondered if he had similar thoughts about me. I, of course was hoping he did.

"The practice isn't that uncommon, you've seen American Pie, you watch 20/20 and Dateline. Teenagers do it all the time. You could have been Chilton good girl by day-"

"Shut up Logan, I don't want to deal with you right now." I rubbed my temple. The conversation I was having with myself in my head was one I was avoiding with Jess. Did he still hate me? Did I still hate him? Was our passion fueled by love or hate? Both? Does the past really matter? If I hated him then, could I love him now?

"Rory," he was softening his voice again. It wasn't helping. It just seemed to agitate me further. He was patronizing me. "I love you, just let me take you to Philly. You don't need to prove yourself to him after all of these years."

"That's what you think I'm doing?" I asked flabbergasted. Of course he wasn't entirely wrong. I was partly doing it to prove myself. I was constantly proving myself to Jess. It wasn't exactly a discret thing.

_She kissed me back to prove herself to me. To prove that she could play the same game. To prove that we were equals. To prove me wrong. _

He was right. I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to prove to him that we were equals. I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't perfect. I wanted to prove to him that I could save him. I wanted to prove to him that he couldn't corrupt me. I wanted to prove to him I could corrupt myself.

But that was then. Now I wanted answers. I wanted closure. I wanted an open door. An open ending. I wanted a beginning. I wanted to be able to admit that I still had feelings for him. I wanted to get away. I wanted him. Naked. I wanted him to give me a reason to shake all these fantasies so I could get on with my life.

"He may of loved you at some point," he sighed, conceding. "But Rory, that clearly isn't the case anymore. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt.

I grabbed my purse off the table, "I don't need you to protect me." I said heading for the door. "And you know, it's funny how easily love turns into hate isn't Logan?" 

With that I got up and left the apartment. When he called the next day, I didn't pick up.

**Please continue with the reviews everything y'all say really helps! Next chapter will be for the Lits I promise! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Don't Panic - Chapter 6 **

I looked at the slip of paper that I had written his address on and knocked on the apartment's door. I heard some scurrying and the door opened. Jess ushered me in mumbling something about it being cold. His apartment was clean and surprisingly big. It wasn't a penthouse or anything but it was decent sized. I had been expecting a closet.

I dropped my bag on the floor and walked over to the couch. Without thinking I laid down and sighed. He stood in the doorway and smiled. Clearly at my very rude action. It was amusing him. Seeing me skip all my skittish apprehension.

He laughed lightly. Closing the door behind him. I was alone with Jess, really truly alone Jess. I had never been truly alone with Jess before. Luke's 10 minute policy. My mom's "casual" walking ins every 10 and half minutes. One time Jess stuck his hand up my shirt right at the 10 minute mark just to annoy her. It would have, had I not been so shocked I choked and fell off the couch. That just made Lorelai laugh.

"Well you don't waste anytime with polite formalities." He smiled leaning against the doorframe.

"Bad week." I sighed again, less dramatically this time and closed my eyes. He came over and sat at my feet.

"You didn't have to come you know." It was barely even a whisper. He didn't want to give me a reason to leave.

"Oh see, that's where you're wrong my friend." I announced dramatically. "I did." I peaked my eyes open and smiled. He needed to know that I wanted to come.

"And why may I ask is that?" He asked seriously. It was miraculous how different this was from our last meeting. It had been less then five minutes and there had yet to be an awkward silence or conversation about weather.

"A million reasons."

"Name one."

"I broke up with Logan." That wasn't what I wanted to say. I wanted to say because I finished my community service. I wanted to say because I needed to escape the knowing eyes of Stars Hollow. I wanted to say because I had no where else to go. I wanted to know if he still hated me. I wanted to know if I still loved him. I wanted to know if things could be different.

It was silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry." he said awkwardly.

"I'm not." I snapped. "It was the right thing to do."

"Well then… you're a regular Mother Teresa." He clearly had no idea what to say or how to say it.

"Do you have any idea who Mother Teresa is?" I asked him.

"Hey, I was your _literate _boyfriend thank you." He mumbled the word boyfriend, trying to lessen the blow of the word. Trying to avoid the topics that could be brought up. Trying to avoid the things we had to say. He changed the subject after a brief silence,

"You hungry?"

"Nope."

"You're a Gilmore. You're always hungry."

"You're right. I just don't feel like eating."

"OK." He said lamely.

We sat in silence for awhile.

"We could go get some ice cream." I said quietly. "Only if there are cones and sprinkles. Cups and hot fudge are simply unacceptable."

"Well, you're in luck, I happen to have an assortment of ice cream flavors and toppings right over there." He motioned over to the kitchenette.

"Chocolate?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Vanilla?"

He nodded again.

"Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough?"

"Of course."

"What brand sprinkles?"

"You know them by brand?"

"As a matter of fact – I do." I crossed my arms to make the point.

"Uh, their multicolored."

"That was helpful." I scoffed.

"It was accurate."

"But not helpful."

"I'm sorry, I will get up and I will read you the label – how do you feel about that?"

"I feel like that is a solid plan of action." I stated matter of factly as I went over to the TV. "Oh my god – Almost Famous? Shouldn't you have grown out of this by now?"

"Cake-Mate? Do we approve of Cake-Mate sprinkles?"

"You're avoiding my question."

"It will only result in you mocking me so I don't see the point. Back to the sprinkles – do you like Cake-Mate sprinkles?" He said shaking the container at me.

"Why do you own so much ice cream? And sprinkles. Sprinkles aren't they kind of… I don't know… they seem a little queer eye for you." It was more of a statement then a question. I walked over to him and took the sprinkles from him.

"Your reference was crap Gilmore." He said taking the sprinkles back.

"Yes, well my banter skills are completely dependent on caffeine and sugar; I've been deprived of both today." I said, again taking the sprinkles from him.

"Poor baby." He said, and for some unknown reason we continued our battle over who had possession of the sprinkle jar. Only this time when he grabbed – I didn't let go.

"Give me the sprinkles." I giggled when he said sprinkles. Which only seemed to provoke him, he tugged a little harder. Which prompted me to hold on to it a little tighter. It was foolish and childish. But it wasn't about the sprinkles.

Because had it been about the sprinkles there would have been no explanation for why the sprinkles were on the floor of the kitchen and I was pinned beneath him on the couch. Breathing heavily. But it wasn't about the sprinkles. It was about chemistry. Love and hate and passion. It was about the things we weren't saying.

I let my body relax as Jess stood up. "Well that happened sooner then I expected." He said as he pulled the ice cream out of the freezer. My head was spinning.

"Do you still hate me?" I asked when I finally stood up. This was the difference between Adult Rory and Teenage Rory – the former had the guts to ask such a question.

He handed me an ice cream cone with sprinkles, "To be honest, I don't know." That was the difference between Adult Jess and Teenage Jess – the latter would have just shut me up with a kiss.

I hated myself for it, but right then I would have chosen the kiss over his honesty.

**Oh the drama of Rory and Jess. sigh R&R I wanna know what you all think. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Don't Panic - Chapter 7**

We didn't say much the rest of night and stayed a safe distance of four feet and a piece of furniture apart at all times. He turned on a movie and we both pretended to watch it while wondering how this week was going to go. Was it going to be a week? Would I leave? Would he kick me out? Would it be like this the whole time?

The movie ended and neither of us noticed until all the credits had rolled. I clutched my bag nervously. Twirling the zipper in my fingers. Fidgeting. I was fidgeting. He looked over and I stopped. Briefly. He made me nervous. Skittish.

"So I'll sleep on the couch," he said with a complete lack of assertion. I made him nervous too. "You can sleep on the bed."

"Jess…" I whimpered slightly. I really didn't want to sleep on the couch but it would be unfair to force him out of the bed. Seeing as it was his.

"Well unless you want to share-" He was joking of course but now wasn't the time for that kind of joke. He stopped and looked at me smiling weakly. "Just take the bed; I'll be fine out here."

"Thanks." He followed me to make sure I got settled. The bedroom was small but he owned a decent sized bed. "I like to spread out" he mumbled. He had seen me rack my brain for reasons why he could possibly need a decent sized bed.

"Oh, ok." We were treading on thin ice. It shocked me how well he could read me. It shocked me even more how well I could read him. It was unsettling. Jess and I hadn't been able to communicate like this before. We wouldn't have fought the way we did if it had been like this. Or at least, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have.

"I have to go to work tomorrow so feel free to help yourself to anything you want. I don't suggest going out, but you can do what you want." He said as he closed the door.

My mother had pegged and pleaded with me to not go to Philly. In her eyes it was the dirtiest, scummiest, nastiest place she could think of. This would mark the first time I wasn't staying in a hotel while visiting a city. I wasn't wrapped in a blanket of security guards, numbered rooms, key cards and chaperones, she noted. Part of me suddenly understood her fear. I hadn't heard the neighbors arguing during the movie. Or the sirens.

I undressed and put on my pajamas. I eyed the bed. Clean sheets. Clean pillowcases. Clean blanket. He had prepared for my visit. The ice cream was a preparation. The apartment was freakishly clean for a 21 year old bachelor. He had changed his routine for me. I snuggled myself under the covers and tried to sleep.

_12:04 a.m_

_1:53 a.m_

_2:07a.m _

The door creaked open a little, I rolled over. "Couldn't sleep?" I asked my voice thick with sleep. Which was misleading because I hadn't slept a moment.

"Did I wake you?" he asked nervously.

"You? No. The neighbors, the sirens, the trash man, the lady in the hall, the drunk guy and the dogs. They are another story entirely." I smirked to myself in the dark.

"You are so spoiled." I could see the silhouette of his head shaking in faux-disbelief.

"Yes, I am." I yawned. "You know you can kick me out of the bed whenever. If I'm not sleeping here, I won't be sleeping in there so while the gesture was kind, it really doesn't matter."

"Nah, you stay in here." He started to leave.

"Jess, why don't you just come in here and sleep." I made a large sweeping motion with my arms, "You have to go to work tomorrow. You need sleep."

"I can't make you give up the bed." He said stubbornly.

"Well then we can share." I stated as I scooted over slightly. "I don't want to impair you're ability to think tomorrow. I will not have Jess Mariono, published novelist, become a mindless idiot on my account."

"Rory-" He whispered, trying to come up with a logical argument.

"Nope. I won't hear it." I was being stubborn. I was tired. He was tired. We were going to argue about this for more time then it was worth if I didn't put my foot down. "Now come on sleepy-head."

He gave in finally and climbed in bed. We were silent for a while. I was almost asleep when he finally said something.

"Rory?" he whispered almost inaudibly. I was too tired respond. I grunted but just barely.I felt him roll over; his back was now facing me. He thought I was asleep.

Somehow during the night I ended up smashed against his body. I was breathing softly on his neck and his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist. I didn't dare move. As much as it scared me to be sleeping like that. The thought of his reaction scared me more. And the thought of him rolling over and leaving me alone scared me the most.

That morning I pretended not to wake up when he untangled his arms from my body and left for work. Only when I knew he had left did I open my eyes. There was a note scrawled on a piece of paper on his pillow.

"_I don't hate you._"

I felt bad for instantaneously doubting it. I felt more then just a twinge of guilt about hoping he wouldn't come back from work. I wanted him to fail again. I wanted an "I knew it!" moment. I wanted a reason to run. I had no idea what I wanted.

I paced around his apartment; it suddenly felt very small. I was shamelessly searching for a reason to go, a phone number, a picture, a girlfriend, a wife. _Any _reason not to stay and face this. This was not how it was supposed to be. There was supposed to be a big fight and a dramatic exit. He was supposed to hate me, so I could hate him.

Three years worth of resentment, hurt, heartbreak all boiling under the surface waiting to spill out; and now he was making it even more difficult by uncovering the feelings I had tried my hardest to hide. I hadn't gotten over him. He made that process incredibly difficult by randomly showing up at inopportune moments and confessing things to me.

"_I love you."_

"_Come with me."_

"_I wrote a book." _

"_I know you better then anyone." _

He _knew_ exactly what he was doing every time he showed up, I'm sure of it. He was testing me. He was playing me, Logan was right; I was a game to him. He toyed with my emotions constantly.

I emptied the contents of my purse onto the floor, not in the mood to shuffle through its contents, I needed myself phone and I needed it right that second. Flipping it open I pressed the speed dial number and waited.

"Rory, what's up?"

"Mom I'm having a meltdown and I have no clue what the hell to do in this empty apartment in the middle of this city that I've never been to in my whole life. I mean, I've heard about obviously – the eagles, Lil Kim's imprisonment… God is that all there is here?" I rushed through my words so quickly that had it been anyone else they would have had no clue what I was saying.

"No, there's that pretty art museum with all the steps."

"Thank you. I mean the only reason I know that the Eagles are from Philadelphia is because that T.O guy is on the news a lot. I can see why we never took a rode trip to Philly. There's nothing here!" I gasped.

"Well that's not exactly true; I hear South Street is supposed to be interesting. If you go to condom kingdom get me some fun colored ones." I could hear the smirk in her voice.

"MOM! That is not helping this! I do not need a picture of you and Lu – oh GOD! Ew. Mom!" I could hear her cackling on the other end.

"I'm sorry kid, what's wrong; I wasn't expecting this call so soon. Did he try anything funny? Cause so help me – I will... I will come up with something so terrible that the stuff those creepy siblings on Nip/Tuck did look something out of a Disney movie."

"He doesn't hate me." I stated.

"That's good right?" She asked confused. "I mean this whole thing would be considerable more difficult if he hated you."

"He's supposed to hate me. So I can hate him. And I can move on. It was supposed to be easy like that. 'Hi Rory – I hate you.' 'Hi Jess, I hate you too.' 'Leave.' 'Ok.' 'Bye.' Like a Dick and Jane novel. Jess sees Rory. Jess hates Rory. Rory hates Jess too. The End."

"You know I bought you a bunch of Dick and Jane books when you were about five; only to discover Mia had already introduced you to the more difficult and complex literature of Dr. Seuss." She remembered fondly.

"I miss Mia." I said forgetting the focus of the conversation for a second.

"She called a couple times while you were living with the Grandparents. You should call her. But honey, back to Jess. What's the real problem here?"

"The real problem is he doesn't hate me!" I cried exasperatedly.

"You aren't over him are you?" She said softly.

"Are you at work?" I asked trying to avoid the question.

"Nope. I'm at Luke's and I'm telling you those colored c-"

"No! No! I'm not! I don't know! It's just, No!" I interrupted her making sure she didn't finish her thought.

"Knew that would work." She said, proud of herself.

"Wait – you're on your cell phone, you can't be at Luke's."

"I'm at _Luke's_ not the diner."

"Oh, dear God." This conversation was not going in a direction I liked.

"So back to you and Jess, you're not over him, you're single, he doesn't hate you, and you're alone for a week." I could hear her starting to panic slightly. "You do realize that worries me more then just a little bit, right?"

"We slept together last night."

"Rory! Mommy needs to know that kind of thing at the beginning of the conversation; you don't not let me ramble when you have news like that." She was panicking.

"No, no, we _slept _together, no sex, just, he couldn't sleep and wouldn't let me move to the couch so I said we could share and then we ended up all snuggly." I said quickly.

"You do realize this is the most detailed conversation we've ever had about Jess, right?" She said. "Normally you're all _thirteen_ on me and leave me out of the loop. Leave me wondering."

"No time for useless pontificating, I need help. I need it now."

She snickered slightly, "Pontificating. I am pontificating. That makes me sound so smart. Thank you."

"Moooom." I groaned.

"Ok, right, well, you could come home and make your favorite mother very happy. Or you could ride this out and see what happens. Either way, it's up to you, and I support you."

"Thanks for the help." I grumbled irritably.

"Kid, I think you're just scared of all the things you guys never worked out and all the sudden you have this fantastic opportunity to figure things out. It's very surreal to be able to confront all the demons you two have. I think, despite the fact that it scares me, you should stay. You need closure babe. You can't have Jess hanging over you all the time. You don't admit it, but he's always there. You need to let it all go. But its up to you."

"I'll talk to you later." I said quietly.

"I love you Rory." She said earnestly.

"I love you too Mom, thanks."

"Bye."

After I hung up I got up and looked around the apartment for something to do till Jess got back.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate it.  Keep comments, criticisms, anything except flames coming. Thanks again, and on to chapter 8… **

**Don't Panic – Chapter 8**

I attacked him with questions before he could even close the door. He sighed heavily and opened the fridge, I didn't stop asking, and words were raining out of my mouth. He takes out two beers, he holds one up, I take it from him and nod thankfully, all the while jabbering on incessantly. He ushers me to the couch and sits down, I'm still talking as he opens our beers. He took a couple sips and smiled before I finally stopped talking and drank. I chugged, heavily. I was stressed, legal and the beer was really good. Jess laughed slightly at the sight of me. He casually rested his hand on my knee, I stiffened at the contact. His hand didn't move.

"Did you hear a single thing I said?" I asked spitefully, holding my bottle in my lap and eyeing his hand.

"Nope." He smiles.

"We've got to talk, you know." I say, I was full out staring at his hand at this point.

"Yup." He was grinning ear to ear, watching my eyes bug out at the sight of his hand. I squirmed slightly, he didn't move.

"About you and me, and you and me, and things about me and you – and, I," He was toying with me again, he knew the reason I couldn't think was because his hand was on my knee and I was trying too hard to avoid giving him the satisfaction of me confirming it. Even though I knew I had confirmed it the moment he put his hand on my leg. I had to sit it out though.

"Before we can," I hitched slightly; he was moving his thumb in slight circles on the inner side of my leg. "Continue this week, we've got to talk." I finished relatively smoothly. But the damage had been done. We were both fully aware of the power he had over me.

"Talk." He was still smirking, "Ok, Go."

"See, here's the thing Jess," my eyelids fluttered slightly, his hand had moved but not in the direction I had expected, it was on my thigh. "I'm not going to settle for minimal verbalization of thoughts and feelings," I bit my lip slightly, "In fact, I'm going to insist that you start from the beginning."

"Of?" He leaned closer to me.

"New York. Your life in New York." I stammered. It was killing me, torn between sticking it to him and giving into him. "And this monosyllabic thing you have going tonight? Yeah, it isn't going to work."

"You know about my life in New York." He said simply, hand still on my thigh. "Anything worth knowing, you know."

"That's not cutting it. I know the name of a couple of your friends, I know the name of your favorite restaurant, I know you picked up smoking at age 12, and that you learned to read at age 5. I know that you read because you're smarter then you let yourself believe and you needed an outlet for that. I know you tried to tell me that it was because you got stood up in the library a couple of times and were bored. But you can't cover the vast expanses of literature you've read after being stood up. And you tried to convince me you were on a date, but you know I know that that's not true. You were just going to make out with a girl in the library because you were too young to think of any place more creative."

"I thought you said I didn't go to the library to get action."

"I said that's not why you started to read."

"Ah, so you think I made out in the library."

"You aren't denying it." I smiled, biting my lip again, his hand still hadn't moved. While the dizzying effect hadn't gone away I could at least ramble. Rambling was a perfectly fine way for a Gilmore to communicate, in fact it was pretty much the only way.

"Well, I plead the fifth." God dammit he was still smirking.

"See, this is what I mean, anytime New York comes up, you avoid it completely. You're avoiding it now, and you avoided it then but before you would just kiss me, now you're being all constitutional on me. I want to know why you got sent to Stars Hollow, I want an answer more then just kid stuff, because I did kid stuff too and I never got sent to a different state to live with an Uncle, granted I don't have any Uncles, but that's besides the point. You've alluded to drugs, and drinking and girls. I know that you've been hurt. I know that you did stupid things. I know that your bad boy face is just that, a face. But I don't know anything about you."

"Really? Because it sure seems like you do. In fact, I'm pretty sure you do. You pretty much just summed up my life. In fact I think you summed it up with words I used a couple years ago. I think a better question is Rory, why do you feel like you don't know me?" There was an edge in his voice, but his hand hadn't moved.

I sighed, it was a frustrated sigh, but what I was frustrated about was up for debate. "Because I don't Jess. I don't know you."

"What's my favorite color?" his thumb was pressing into my thigh a little harder then before. "I promise it hasn't changed."

"Blue." I gasp slightly at the pressure change.

"Right, author?"

"Hemmingway. Bu-" my protests were interrupted.

"Remember when I told you I was going to 'whatever' 'whenever' 'wherever' and work when I needed the cash? Later on one night when were at Luke's making out on the couch you came across something that I had written. You told me in that naïve but persistent way of yours that I was going to be a writer one day. That whatever, whenever, wherever wasn't always going to work."

"So! Jess anybody could have told you that!"

"But they didn't."

"You didn't let them in Jess! Anybody could see it when you let them in, anyone, I mean even Paris Hilton could probably struggle to put two and two together and realize that you have so much more to offer then just this whatever business."

"But I didn't let Paris Hilton in Rory, I let you in."

"No Jess, no you didn't! Because you didn't tell me you were leaving, you didn't call me, you didn't write me, you didn't do it right!"

"I didn't." It was a statement and it burned. I wanted him to argue with me, I didn't want confirmation that he screwed up. I didn't want closure. I didn't want this to be over. I was stinging all over. I was clinging to the past because it was the only parts of him I had left. I was ready to fight.

"Is that all you can say? You didn't do it right? You hurt me. I never told anyone how bad, but god Jess. I thought I knew you, I really did. I did until Dean came up to me talking about his wedding and in the same breathe how badly you treated me. I did until you didn't tell me about school. I did until that stupid party for that really annoying kid. God, Jess, I really thought I knew you. I was the stupid girl who thought she could change the bad boy, I thought I could Jess. I thought I could help you. But towards the end I stopped feeling that way and I felt like Sandy from Grease, I felt like the only way I could be happy with you was if I became Slutty Rory, and I didn't want to become Slutty Rory." I was trying my hardest to not be hysterical.

"I didn't ask you to become Slutty Rory."

"Don't be so dense, John Travolta didn't ask Sandy to become Slutty Sandy – she did that all on her own."

"I'm not John Travolta. I see myself as a more James Dean type of persona."

"Fine – James Dean didn't ask Sandy to become Slutty Sandy!"

"You're right. He didn't." He was looking me straight in the eyes, and I shivered. "John Travolta may have opted for Slutty Sandy, but James Dean wouldn't have."

"James Dean ran away before he could change his mind."

"James Dean ran away because he had nowhere else to go."

"He could have said goodbye."

"Everybody does things they regret." He said quietly. My head was spinning, even though he had moved his hand back to his lap as soon as I started my hysterical ranting. I fought the urge to cry; he was being sincere.

We were quiet for a while, settling nicely into a silence that didn't carry any weight. It wasn't awkward, or heavy, or filled with things we weren't saying, it was just quiet. Jess moved down to the end of the couch slightly and allowed me to lay my head in his lap. He gently ran his fingers through my hair. We both knew that the conversations between us weren't over but we didn't need to rush it. The remaining conversations were for another time. Things were alright for the moment, not perfect, probably not lasting, but we needed a moment to breathe and think.

"Hey Rory?" I made a small noise. "Maybe you couldn't change the bad boy the way you wanted, when you wanted. But I couldn't – I - without – Thank you." I smiled, he was cute when he was nervous.

**Sorry this was a little on the shorter side –but hopefully I made up for it with my fluffy Litness. **


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: ThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyou for all the reviews! I really appreciate it; it makes this all worth it, so keep it up! **

**Don't Panic – Chapter 9**

"Would you rather bathe in a vat of fluffernutter or chocolate syrup?" I giggled as I scooped a large spoonful of ice cream out of the container and into my mouth.

"Chocolate syrup. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?" He asked as he ate his own ice cream.

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Just don't tell my mother that. She thought it was a cardinal sin for that movie to be remade. She swore to excommunicate me if I ever saw it," my stomach churned, Jess didn't know the details of the fight-to-end-all-fights. Excommunication was a good way to describe it, but I wasn't describing I was talking about a children's movie. I attempted to pick up where I had stopped myself."But – I well, anyways, Nine Stories or Franny and Zooey?"

"Franny and Zooey." He said slowly as he started to put away his ice cream. He looked at me a little funny, trying to find the right words. It wasn't an entirely new experience watching Jess grasp for the right words and phrases from his extensive vocabulary to make a point but it was eerie none the less. He tended to fluctuate rabidly between monosyllabic and snappy so catching a moment in between was rare.

"Good choice." I stated awkwardly, I fidgeted with my spoon a little. He looked over at me from his kitchenette and grinned. I continued the game to break the silence. "New York or Philadelphia?"

Everything that was happening was so incredibly, to use my Mom's word, surreal. Sitting cross legged on Jess' couch in Jess' apartment wearing my old sweatpants and tee-shirt without any makeup, talking mindlessly about everything and nothing; this is the future I pictured for us as teenagers. A dream temporarily realized.

"New York is a cooler city." He said as he climbed back on to the couch with me. "But Philly doesn't suck. Well my life in Philly doesn't suck. Job, cash, life, future, book, you." He smiled, he was trying to be silly with his last comment but I felt like I was going to throw up.

He had a life, a purpose, a direction - Jess; where-ever-whenever-whatever-Jess had everything I had ever hoped for him. He had all the things that would have kept us together and I was on the other side; my life falling apart beneath me with no real firm ground to stand on. Running away from people I loved to find myself, making mistakes, falling a part. The tables had literally turned, I was now keeping things from me, I wasn't good enough for him. I was doing to him all the things he did to me that I hated him for.

"I dropped out of Yale." I blurted out. "I stole a boat. I lived with my Grandparent's. I joined the frickin' DAR."

"You stole a boat?" He looked at me dumbstruck. I knew that he was grappling to figure out how this related to the cutesy games we were playing. There was a disconnect between my train of though and the situation we were in but that didn't stop me from talking.

"I stole a boat, spent a night in Jail, worked 200 hours of community service and then some friend of a friend of a sister of a cousin of an accquantice of a classmate has it so that you can read the whole story if you just search 'Rory Gilmore Sex Boat.' I thought Paris was kidding but I Googled it." I was loosing my cool again. Moments ago we were laughing and joking, talking about movies and music and junk food and all of the sudden I was exploding with things I wanted to keep quiet.

He was snickering, "Rory Gilmore _Sex_ Boat?"

"So not the point Jess. I had 200 hours of community service which I only finished last week. God – I slept with _Dean_." That got his attention; he stopped laughing and immediately looked up at me.

"Didn't he get married?" He asked seriously.

"Yes." I snapped. A rush of indecipherable emotions ran through my veins, moving so quickly and recklessly it was too difficult to begin to analyze them, so I didn't try. I just let them engulf me.

"Did he get divorced or something?" He ran his hand through his hair.

"Or something." I crossed my arms around my waist, I was acting from somewhere between arrogance and self protection. Not physically but Jess I was revealing a lot and it just felt safer to have my arms wrapped around me tight.

"You didn't – while he was married – did you?" He managed to spit the words out.

"What makes you think you have the right to be mad about this?" I was on the defensive.

"Rory – what the hell!" He was fidgeting now. He was rummaging through his pockets for something. He was searching for a cigarette.

"You left Jess. You _left_. And then you come back and you were all 'I love you lets run away together.' God and then you left – _again_." I was starting to pick out emotions I was feeling; pain, embarrassment, _anger_.

"Because you said no!" he snapped back, he had found a cigarette and was now smoking it mercilessly.

"Do you honestly think that in any scenario – any scenario at all, what you said and how you said it could have possible been construed as positive and constructive?" I glared at him through the smoke that covered his face.

I hit a nerve. "I'm sorry it wasn't a perfect fairy tale expression of love but at least I meant it. I screwed up Rory – I was 19 and love was a new thing for me. I felt it, I loved you, I thought you loved me, but I fell on my face. It made me get my act together Rory, I had to drop the whole Holden Caulfeild thing and grow up. And I did – so in that light it was positive and constructive." He paused almost pensively. "Did he tell you he loved you?" He said through pursed lips, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth dangerously.

"Don't talk about Dean; you have no idea what you're talking about." I muttered.

"I'm sorry Rory but did you miss the part where he was _married!_"

"He was 19 Jess! He made a mistake!" I cringed slightly; I hated how familiar this feeling of spiraling downward had become.

"So sleeping with his ex was the way to rectify that?" He was on his second cigarette. His first one had ended up ground into his floor.

"When did you become Dr. Phil! Last time I checked Dean wasn't the one with emotional problems." I was fighting dirty, but I couldn't resist that satisfied gnawing feeling in my chest every time I struck a never.

"Tell me Rory, did he take of his ring or did you? Whose name did he call? Did he call you afterwards? When did he break up with Lindsay?" Third cigarette.

"How is that any of your business?" I demanded, desperately itching from something to do with my hands.

"Did he tell you he loved you? What did your mother have to say? How did the town react Rory? I seriously can't believe you slept with him." I sighed exasperatedly.

"Why because it wasn't you? Because you wanted to and I didn't let you? Because you screwed up? Because it's your fault I slept with him?" I was trying to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted an even playing field. He wasn't going to win.

"Try – because I loved the fact that you weren't that type of girl."

"You're right! I wasn't!" I was screaming.

"Then what happened Rory? Because something happened." Fourth cigarette.

"Are you kidding me? Like you don't know Jess." I was seething, incredulous, I was ready to cry. Was he really that clueless?

"I don't know Rory. I'm sorry but I'm not psychic, I can't read you're mind."

"You." I shouted. I got up off the couch and stood up in front of where he was sitting. I pushed him a little bit, challenging him almost. "You. You. You. You."

"Me! You're gonna try and pawn that off on me?" He coughed, startled by my outburst. He spat his words with as much aggression as he could but he didn't move. My palm pressed up against his shoulder in a mock attempt to keep him still. He was glowering at me. "Is it my fault you stole the boat? What about leaving you're mom – what about that?"

"I slept with him the week after you should up." I was trying to even out my breathing, but I couldn't regulate my breathing. My chest was rising and falling heavily and there was nothing I could do about it. So I stood there, straddling him, staring down at him as I tried to regain a sense of consciousness. He was looking up at me expectantly, waiting for me too continue my thoughts. My reasoning behind blaming him. His brown his just impatiently watching my blue ones for answers.

That's when I kissed him.

My lips met his and he exhaled slightly; smoke lingered in the small space between our lips as he nipped at my bottom lip. He pulled me on to his lap and the kiss continued slowly. Nervously. My hand moved from its place on his shoulder to somewhere in his hair. I shivered as the kiss picked up pace. Teeth clashed, breath was caught, names were uttered, whispered, moaned.

This kiss was different then the ones we had shared as teenagers. He wasn't holding back and I wasn't denying the feelings that were taking over me. Everything in the kiss was tainted, the motives, the implications, the taste. I was sure that the cigarette in his hand would taste exactly the same as his mouth. I chided myself for thinking about picking up smoking just to taste that anytime I wanted.

I scooted closer to him, body pressed against his, and he moved his lips down my neck, kissing, biting before coming to an abrupt stop. I made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a moan when I realized he wasn't going to continue. He looked up at me and sighed, "Rory what are we doing?"

"We _were _kissing." I muttered darkly, as I shifted slightly in his lap, hoping to frustrate him enough to cure me of my own frustrations. "And now we aren't, but that's your fault so…" I moved a little closer to him, trying to get him to stop hesitating and kiss me again.

"Thank you Captain Obvious. I meant – _why_ were we kissing." He took a drag from his cigarette, being carefully not to blow any smoke in my face. He was running his fingers up and down my thigh with his free hand anxiously. He didn't like to be still when he was in an uncomfortable situation.

"Because it seemed like a good idea in my head?" I answered halfheartedly as I inched my lips dangerously close to his throat. "Because I wanted to." I said more definitively against his neck, lips brushing softly against his skin. "I really, really wanted too."

"Rory." He choked as he dropped the cigarette on the floor again and stomped it out. He pressed his hands against my shoulders, forcing me to sit up and look at him. "Could you please stop?"

"Why?" I pouted childishly.

"I'm not going to be Dean 2.0." His fingers were nervously running up and down my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. The fine hairs on my arms were sticking straight up, and I was shivering slightly. "I don't want to be a mistake, OK?"

"What are you talking about?" I managed to ask.

"You said you slept with Dean because I showed up – if that's true - isn't it possible that you only kissed me because of you're break up with Logan?" He asked softly, trying not to hurt me.

"It's possible." I conceded, "But isn't it also possible that I just wanted to kiss you?"

"You aren't the type of girl to just kiss some random Joe-Schmo, you are Rory Gilmore serial monogamist, Rory Gilmore 'if-you-can't-commit-find-some-one-else', you aren't a Sex in the City Girl, you're not Paris Hilton, you aren't some random whatsername, ok?" He was obviously having a tough time with this sharing and talking thing, he looked tense, like he was loosing a fight.

"Well we're lucky you aren't Joe Schmo, aren't we?" I had done serious twice already tonight; I had done angry and sad, I wasn't in the mood to continue on with that.

"Then what am I Rory?" He asked pained expression still on his face.

"You're Jess." I giggled, he raised an eyebrow disapprovingly. "I don't know, I don't know where we are. I know that after you showed up I thought about you more then I should have. I know that after you showed up I got my act together and went back home. I know that after you showed up everything fell apart with Logan."

"I said what am _I _too you, not what are we." He mumbled, not looking at me.

"You're my ex-boyfriend, you're my favorite author, you're an amazing friend for letting me stay after I tore into you're past, and you're giving me goose bumps and making it so I can't think." My voice got softer as I spoke and I averted my gaze to my lap, trying to avoid his eyes. After a couple of minutes of lingering silence he pressed his forehead against mine, making me look him in the eye.

"Do you want to figure this out?" He asked earnestly. "Us, you, me – that kiss."

"Nope." I giggled and tried my hardest not to grin as he kissed me and called me names like brat, and princess, and spoiled.

"Things will be different now." He said between kisses.

"Yeah, well, they better be."


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh ye of little faith – what fun would a story be if it didn't fluctuate between good and bad? Happy and sad? Fluffy and angsty? There needs to be both. So yes the last chapter or so has been kind of sickeningly cute but it Jess and Rory so we all know it's not going to stay that way. **

**Don't Panic – Chapter 10**

"Oh your mother is going to love this." Jess muttered as he climbed into bed, sans shirt and pants. He was just wearing a pair of ratty old boxers. I told him it didn't bother me, I had taken over his bed the least I could do is allow him to be comfortable. But in all honesty it completely unnerved me.

"Love what?" I asked as I tried to subtly move away from him. His scent was intoxicating, his body was more impressive then I had remembered and my self-control hadn't been that great lately; I really didn't want to add Jess to my growing list of mistakes.

"You in bed with me. Two nights in a row. Sans clothing." He grinned.

"I called her today. She knows about the spooning." I yawned, the day had been an emotional free for all and I was exhausted.

"Spooning leads to forking." Another lopsided grin.

"How does using a quote from a tee-shirt as a pick up line go over with the ladies?" I mumbled while rolling over, my back facing him.

"I feel like there is a wet tee-shirt contest joke somewhere in there, I'm just too tired to find it." I flung my arm backwards in attempts to hit him. "Hey, woah there – no need to get all Jackie-Chan on me."

"If you think my Jackie Chan is good you should really piss me off – my Bruce Lee is a hundred times more impressive."

"I'll take your word for that." He snuggled a little closer to me. "After work tomorrow we'll do something fun, ok?" His breath was hot on my neck and I was dazed. I mumbled what I was fairly certain was yes, or ok, or some form of agreement.

Jess fell asleep long before I did, and woke up much earlier then I had anticipated. I was so used to Logan's late nights, late morning schedule that it caught me off guard when Jess was stumbling around the apartment at 6:45.

"What time is it?" I asked as I wrapped a blanket tightly around me while I trudged out to the couch.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." He glanced quickly at his watch. "7:15."

"Why on earth are you up at this ungodly hour?" I yawned.

"To spite you."

"I knew it. You're a regular Cruella De Ville." I mumbled sleepily.

"Except for the part where I harass pretty girls, instead of spotted puppies, and have no interest in making you into a coat or any other form of clothing." He was eating a bowl of Lucky Charms and I could hear the coffee maker.

"I thought you didn't drink coffee?"

"I didn't used to." I accepted his evasive answer, he had done enough caring and sharing in the past few 12 hours. It also had something to do with the fact that he had poured me a mug of my favorite pitch black caffeinated liquid.

"What time do you have to be at work?"

"8:30."

"So you got up at 6:45? Two hours early?" I asked perplexed.

"Yup."

"Any reason in particular or are you just overly-punctual all of the sudden?"

He glared at me, "It's not '_all of the sudden_' I've had this job for almost a year."

I gushed a few apologizes, "I didn't mean it like that. I really like that you're – you know, dependable and consistent, it's just new to me. When I think Jess I don't think responsible or prompt. It's just going to take some getting used to that's all."

"When I think Rory I don't think felon or home wrecker, but people change."

I looked up, hurt. "Where did that come from?" I whimpered.

"I'm sorry, forget it. I'm just being antagonistic." He rinsed out his bowl with out looking at me.

"Jess?"

"Rory let's just drop it." He came over to where I was sitting on the couch and kissed me, "I don't want to start today like this." I agreed.

"So when do you have to leave?"

"Now." He said, and I swallowed the word as he kissed me again. It burned a little. I was confused at why we started this morning so negatively. Starting the morning off with Jess' mood swings was unsettling because it was all too familiar.

"I'll see you when I get home." He grabbed his coat and with another chaste kiss he was out the door, leaving me to wonder if this was ever going to be easy. I hated comparing Jess to Logan but I couldn't help but do it. The way that even when things were hard with Logan they didn't freak me out as badly as this little almost fight with Jess. That I wanted to go slow with Jess, work things out. Where as with Logan I wanted to go as fast and as recklessly as I could.

It was like back in high school, comparing Jess to Dean. Only now Dean was the mistake, and Jess was redemption. Jess was safe and Dean was the one who could hurt me. Dean was the one who had hurt me. Jess came back, he had every intention of coming back, Dean didn't, I was his fallback. Just like he was my fall back in high school – in case things with Jess didn't work out, only that wasn't completely true because he was married. He had a wife. He used me. Hurt me. He put his ring back on as he left my room. He never said he loved me – just that things weren't working with Lindsay.

I hated not having anything to do; it gave me too much room to think. Room to confront demons I didn't want to admit I still had. I liked living in a state of denial it made things easier. Logan made things easy.

Luckily for me, my phone rang, interrupting my train of thought. I had left my purse on the counter, so I climbed off the couch, curious to see who was calling me before eight in the morning.

"Hello?"

"How about I skip work today, Joey owes me more then one favor, and we work this out?"

"Logan – first of all, no I don't want you to take off work for me. Second of all, I'm in Philly." I sighed.

"So am I, Ace, So am I. In fact I'm right outside Book Boy's apartment." I dropped my phone, and ran to the door and opened it.

"Logan! I think this is considered stalking! I mean if that crazy lady can get a restraining order against David Letterman for secret encoded messages on air – I can get one against you for this, easy."

"Not if I was into on business and wanted to drop by to say hello to my girlfriend." He grinned.

"Apparently you missed the memo – you and I," I motioned between us, "We are no longer a couple. Kaput. Done. Don_zo._ Finished. Through. Pick any synonym you want – that would be what we are. And how did you get this address anyways?"

"It's amazing how easily obtaining information is when you have the number of connections I do."

"The arrogance thing is no longer cute." I pouted.

"So where is book boy?"

"Why are we even still talking Logan – we're done. Over. Leave please."

"You said you loved me, did you mean it?"

I sighed, all of this before eight in the morning, "Yes."

"Then what's the problem Ace? Let's get out of here, Book Bo-"

"His name is Jess." I hissed between clenched teeth.

"Right, Jess, leave him a note and let's go."

"Logan-" I hesitated, "I can't do that. It doesn't work that."

"Sure it does. I'll make a call, there will be a helicopter and then we'll be in New York, Boston, Baltimore, Atlanta, wherever you want to go."

"A helicopter can fly all the way to Atlanta?" I wondered aimlessly trying to avoid actually saying what needed to be said.

"Fine a plane – come on Rory, please, let's go."

"I'm in my pajama's." I motioned to my skimpy shorts and billowy tank top, his grin grew a little.

"I see that Rory, but I'm not seeing the problem."

"You know I would not be caught dead in public in this get up." I was stalling again.

"Then get changed, grab your phone and we can go!"

"Logan, I don't think you get it. I can't come with you because I'm with Jess now. Or at least I think I'm with Jess now. That was the general implication last night-" I realized how that sounded by the look on Logan's face, "No, no, no, I didn't sleep with him. Well I did _sleep_ with him. But it was like a snuggly thing, not a sex thing. We talked, we kissed, and we argued and we kissed, and I just need to figure this out." I was out of breath, I took a second and glanced at him sympathetically, "Logan I think you should go." With that I closed the door.

"Rory!" I heard through the door, "what am I going to have to do to get you to come out and talk to me?"

"What do you think we were just doing Logan?" I groaned irritably.

"We were dancing around things that need to be talked out." He reasoned.

"Well isn't unlucky then that you have two left feet."

"Rory, don't do this to me, please." He begged.

"Do what Logan?"

"Rory, I love you."

So much for Logan making things easy.


	11. Chapter 11

**Again, thank you, thank you, thank you, for the reviews – I don't think I can fully explain how much I appreciate them. As for Logan being pathetic and psychotic – he was equally obnoxious on the show. The coffee cart, the flowers, the chocolate, the stalking… you think he would take a hint. But nothing gets through that dense little head of his, it's a shame he's so annoying because Matt is a cutie. **

**Now back to the fun. **

**Don't Panic – Chapter 11**

The door began to open and I stopped paying attention to Jess' ratty copy of Catcher and the Rye. I knew it had to be Jess because I threatened to call the police on Logan if he tried to open the door after the third time, knowing his criminal record breaking and entering was not something he wanted to be accused with. Logan mumbled something about sitting there all day, and I wished him luck as I closed the door on him again.

I pulled the headphones off my ears and looked up at Jess, who was staring at me quizzically.

"Hey Ror?" He asked slowly. "Why is there a rejected backstreet boy sitting outside my door?"

"He's still out there?" I responded incredulously. "That's impressive. I mean, _really _impressive. He deserves some major props for that one. An award or a statue or something. I have now gone through five cds and two Salinger books."

"He's been out there through all of that?" he questioned disbelievingly as he removed his tie and started to unbutton his shirt.

"Plus an episode of Jerry Springer, but that didn't last very long. He was being too loud for me to be able to fully appreciate the skank-i-tude of today's _whoreanus_ population." I smiled at the faces he made while I described my day with crude nonsensical words.

"Thank you Perez, that was not only enlightening – it was classy." He sighed, as he poured himself a glass of water.

"No. Way. You visit Perez Hilton? That's way too weird. I can't handle that. Wow." I was too stunned to laugh at the absurdity of Jess reading a celebrity gossip site.

"Do you yahoo?" He asked, raising his glass, "Now, back to the fact that your ex has been camping out in my apartment complex all day."

"Right."

A pregnant pause.

"Why the hell is he out there?" Jess asked flustered.

"Well he called, and was like 'hey let's go on a trip.' And I was all 'no we can't I'm in Philly.' And he was like 'Haha guess what me too!' and then I opened the door and BAM! He was there. Which I tried to not let throw me – but it was a tad stalkery. And then I told him I was with you and closed the door and as soon as I closed the door he said 'I love you.' and then refused to leave, oh and by the way – you're out of poptarts." I rambled.

"I don't eat poptarts."

"Nobody doesn't eat poptarts. It's a staple, a food group; everyone eats poptarts."

"I don't eat poptarts."

"I'm buying you some poptarts."

"Which you'll end up eating – so technically, you're buying yourself poptarts."

"What if they're strawberry?"

"So, you're just going to leave him out there?" Jess motioned to the door. "Sitting there, pining, rather pathetically, over you?"

I nodded, "That was the plan."

The lack of response from Jess bothered me, he just nodded briefly and left to get changed out of his work clothes. I called into the other room to him, "Jess?" no response. "Jess?" I got up and moved into the doorway of the bedroom.

"What's your damage, Heather?" I asked softly, hoping he would appreciate the quirkiness of using that reference sincerely, and not freeze me out so completely.

"And they say there are no stupid questions."

"Didn't we agree we were going to work on this?" I leaned up against the doorframe and tilted my head to the side. He pulled a Clash tee-shirt over his head and mumbled something into the fabric. I made a small questioning sound.

"You're making a habit of this." He snapped as he pushed through the doorway.

"What are you talking about?" He shrugged my hand off my shoulder as I tried to get him to stop moving.

"He loves you Rory and you're acting like it doesn't matter at all – does this seem at all familiar to you?"

I stopped moving towards him. "When did you start liking Logan, last time I checked – you hated him. I seem to recall your only interaction with him ever going incredibly poorly, in fact, calling it an interaction implies that there was something remotely civil about it."

"I'm not denying that he's a dick Rory. You're also not denying this trend of yours."

"This isn't even remotely similar! Jess you come up to me on the street after a _year_ of no contact. No good-bye. No letters. No phone calls. And expect me to accept you with open arms? That nothing had changed. That everything was ok? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Huh, I seem to recall you doing something amazingly similar. How was summer between Junior and Senior year for you Ror?"

"That was a _summer_, I was confused!"

"And I wasn't? You were debating between two high school boyfriends, I was meeting my _dad_, I was getting kicked out of school-"

"Now whose fault was that?" I spat bitterly. "And I don't think you give me enough credit Mr. My-Life-Is-A-Sob-Story, my dad had promised us that we were finally going to be a family, he was moving back, he _promised_. Now I know things happen for a reason but that _sucked_."

"At least you knew your dad Ms. My-Life-Is-A-Fucking-Lifetime-Movie."

"God! I can't believe were having this argument _again_."

"Well what are you going to do about Aaron Carter?" He asked angrily.

"Leave 'em." I stated simply. "He'll leave sometime."

"Ok then."

"We really need poptarts." I whispered.

"Now?"

"Please?"

"Ok let me get the keys."

And with that we left the apartment. I followed behind Jess, closing the door cautiously, making a point to look nowhere but my shoes and the back of Jess' head. I quickly attached myself to his body, and looked over at Logan, smiling weakly.

"Logan, please, go home." I whispered as I leaned up against Jess' shoulder, Jess had stopped walking and was now staring down at Logan who was sitting back against the wall reading a copy of the Philadelphia Inquirer.

"Ace, I don't know if I can do that." He turned the page.

"Logan, please-"

"Please what Rory? Please leave so you continue playing house with him? What happens when the week is over Ace – what then? When the glow of whatever it is you two do in the there wears off and you go home – what then? You leave, you go back to Yale, you stay in Stars Hollow, Book Boy stays here and continues his life. We all know it – why not skip all the hurt and heartache and just come home with me now? I love you. You love me. Come on." He stood up straightened out his jacket. "I just want the best for you Ace."

I struggled to keep my voice calm, "Then why did you sleep with Megan the night of the fight?"

"How do you know about Megan?" He asked perplexed.

"Please Logan, you really thought you could keep that a secret? I knew Megan from the paper, she has a blog, Paris reads blogs, she came across Megan's and hadn't realized you and I had broken up, and told me, dearly hoping that I would kill you. Because honestly, she's never liked you. Regardless long story short – I found out. I pretended it didn't bother me, but it does dammit. It does. Was I not worth fighting for Logan? Working for? Exerting the tiniest bit of effort for? Dear God this all feels familiar." Tears were threatening to fall, "Did you not love me enough to try?" I asked Jess this time. "Why didn't you try?"

I slammed the door to the apartment behind me and slumped up against it, letting the tears I promised myself were never going to fall drip down my face. I was supposed to be over Jess. I wasn't supposed to be in his apartment in attempts to reconcile with him. He was supposed to be someone I never thought about, but now I was in _his_ aparement, smashed up against _his _door, crying tears of _him_.

"Great. Rory! Rory!" Logan pounded from the other side of the door. "Please this is exactly what I didn't w-"

"Shut up asshole." Jess cut him off.

"She's in there crying because of you – and I don't even know what you did."

"I didn't cheat on her, that's for sure."

"I was drunk, we had had a fight." Logan didn't hesitate, he wasn't nervous in his justification; he really didn't think that what he had done to me was wrong.

"You're also delusional if you think she's coming out for you."

"What makes you think she'll come out for you?"

"Oh, she's not going to come out for either of us." I smiled inspite of myself. Jess was right, I wasn't coming out for either of them. "She's much too spoiled for that." Again, something I wasn't about to deny.

"And seeing as how I, not you, have the keys to the apartment which I know she's locked because that she's practical along with being dramatic, I not you, get to be the hero. So I guess this is," the door was getting pushed open and I had to scoot out of the way, "_bye, bye, bye._"He sang.

"You really like those boy band puns don't you?"

"Oh, you have no idea." He squatted down to where I was sitting on the floor, "We had another fight."

"Well seeing as you didn't actually participate I don't think it can be qualified as a fight."

"We can't keep doing this." He rubbed his temple.

"You should have thought of that when you took pity on Logan." I snapped.

"I didn't pity him." He sat down and leaned into the door, "I was merely noticing similarities in situations."

"You were pitying him."

"I was being frustrated with you."

"And the truth comes out." I sighed.

"Can you blame me?" He asked.

"Yes."

"And why I didn't see that coming will always remain a mystery."

"I don't want to fight with you." I moved closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder. "Things are nicer when we don't fight."

"I'm trying to be better about things." He said pulling me closer. "I want this to work."

"You are such a sap." I snuggled even closer.

"I'm not a sap. I'm being open. I'm being honest." He smiled a little.

"No more Dr. Phil for you." I chided.

"You know everything isn't ok now, right?"

"Well that's a given – we still don't have any poptarts."


End file.
